


Spellbound

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Series: The Scattered Bits and Pieces of Borderlands AUs [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Familiars, Gen, Jack and Tim are twins, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Werecats, Witch Curses, out of context one - shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: The Lawrences made a mistake and paid for it with everything they had. Their life, their bodies and their soul. Now bound to a witch they are her familiars until their misstep is rectified. But will it ever be? How long until there is too little humanity left to salvage and is it too late for the younger brother already?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small Spoopy October idea that popped into my mind. it is not supposed to go anywhere in particular and I think the one shot is pretty self - explanatory regarding how Tim and Jack would up in this situation. But if you have any questions I will be very happy to answer them either here or on my tumblr, [Eternal_Garbage](http://eternal-garbage.tumblr.com/). The very beginning of the one shot was written by amazing [Zopadthekat](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com/). Please check out her art, you will not be disappointed.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos make me very happy <3 Love ya all.

He is useful to her because of his blood but she does not find him attractive. Not in the same way Jack is. She likes teasing him when he is in human form in hopes of eliciting a reaction because he is always so passive and it gets to her sometimes when she cannot.

But she realises she likes having him around in his cat form. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone if asked directly.

When she is sitting at her small dining table working on drying herbs or writing down the notes, Timothy is often beside her in a chair. He is purring in pure content and these are the moments where she can let herself relax and feel the constant need for hurting someone subside a little.

His brother… Well, he is something else. A wild unruly tom that tolerates little to nothing. He is smart, present but it is his human persona that she gravitates most towards. He indulges her darker side: always fighting, never giving up even when odds are not in his favor and let’s be honest, they never are, she made sure of it. He is his brother’s keeper and he hates it but he always comes back anyway and then she is there to reward him for a job well done. He sputters and bucks, of course, an angry thing that he is but cannot resist her body any more than she can resist his. A beautiful and fierce specimen, even with - or maybe because of - that scar she gave him.

* * *

“You fucking bitch!” Was the first thing he howled as he got his voice back. How long had it been? Months? Years? It must have been at least a decade, sure felt that way. Jack’s legs gave out and it send him down to the floor, his body a trembling mess as a hiss left his mouth. “What do you want now?!”

“Aw, such an angry little kitten,” A boot prodded Jack, urging him to stand up and he did so using wall as a support, staring the short woman in front of him down as her eyes flashed hungrily. “Aren’t you happy to be back?”

He had hands again and if he just sprung her now, locking his fingers around that elegant throat, he and his idiot brother would finally be free from this endless nightmare. The image of her squirming in his grip sent a pleasurable jolt down Jack’s spine but the next moment it turned into pain and he cried out, clutching at his chest where a crude circle brand glowed ominously.

“Babe, we talked about this,” the witch purred, her amber eyes ablaze with satisfaction. “No bad thoughts about the lil’ ol’ me,” one long purple nail tilted his chin. “Or it will hurt.”

“What the fuck do you want me to do, Nisha?” Jack crossed his arms, ignoring the tingling sensation of his own fingers touching bare skin. It felt wrong, it should not had to but it did and that fact alone infuriated Jack greatly. His eyes found his twin who was curled up in front of the fireplace, nose hidden by the fluffy black tail and just being the perfect cat the witch wanted him to be. That was infuriating as well.

“There is something in the city I want you to steal for me, Jack. You are so good at that,” She came closer, manicured nails running through his hair much the same way as they did when he was purring on her lap. Unknowingly he leaned into her touch as the low rumble raised in his chest and she chuckled, startling Jack and forcing him to pull away. The longer they stayed cursed, the more the _side - effects_ seeped into their true form, corroding and gnawing at their humanity.

“I was,” He grit his teeth, pupils expanding in agitation. “Until that asshole over there got us caught.” He waved in Timothy’s direction but the cat just curled up tighter, watching him with those odd half - coloured eyes the curse gave him.

“There is a scroll,” Nisha continued as her fingertips feathered over his chest. “At the antique store, very well guarded and warded. You’ll get it for me,”the fingers slid over his bare abdomen. “You will be a good boy or Timmy here will suffer for it like the last time,” the hand teased the dip of his hip and disappeared. “And as a reward we’ll have some fun.”

* * *

Tim winced as she stalked closer and backed further into the corner, hairs on his tail standing up in distress. Despite her reputation and _especially_ despite how she treated Jack she was somewhat nicer to him. Maybe because he had long since stopped fighting. Maybe because Nisha knew she had control over the both of them. To imagine that the Purple Witch had pity for anyone was too far of a stretch. So when the blanket fell over him - a courtesy that had never been extended to Jack - Timothy still made himself small, even when the tingling sensation of his form shifting and changing washed over him. 

The witch gave him time and, as he carefully sat up shivering slightly, she smiled but the smile was that of a predator cornering it’s prey.

“Where’s your brother?”

They used to be human once, long time ago and back then Tim would shrug his shoulders and answer ‘Like hell I know.” Jack was his own person, always out and about but eventually back when he needed his twin to pull yet another con. Those times were long gone. Now bound to a witch they gained rudimentary powers of their own: a cruel reflection of the brotherly bond they shared. Tim could find Jack anywhere and if Jack ‘strayed’ from orders Tim would hurt and his brother would experience it just as vividly. It worked both ways, of course but Timothy made sure not never wander.

“Town,” Timothy dropped hoarsely, staring at his knees as the pointed nails dug into the skin. He hated talking. Hated thinking. When Tim was just a cat his life was simple and filled with nothing but food and naps. It made him forget that it was a miserable existence he was leading when his basic needs were met. And they were always met.

“Is he doing what I need him to?” The witch asked sweetly, cupping his face and lifting his head upwards to meet her gaze.

Timothy’s eyes glowed softly as he saw a tavern, a drink and a plate of food. Not the scroll or the shop it was in.

“He is,” he answered softly, pupils narrowed to slits.

“Don’t lie to me, kitten,” The woman replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Don’t defend him if he is slacking.”

“He doesn’t, Nisha,” Tim said slowly and carefully. Upsetting her would be bad, the woman did nasty things when she was upset and his scars were testimony to that: not all of them were from the bloodletting. “He needs to eat, it’s… not a day’s job what you’re asking.”

Nisha scoffed but what she heard sounded satisfactory enough and, as she stood up, Tim’s hand caught her fingers pleadingly, rough patches of skin scraping against her palm.

“I told you what you wanted. Please, turn me back. Being this... it hurts. I don’t want to… I can’t.”

“Oh I know,” she knelt next to him once more and dug her fingers into his unkempt hair, soothing the shivers that raked his body. “But I still need you as you are now, my sweet kitten.”


	2. In Which You Don't Just Eat Things You Find On The Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I had ideas. This is in no way becoming an epic but this is my current to go AU to wade through the Writer's Block, as well as I just need something silly and ridiculous to distract my angry mind from things.
> 
> Don't try to make any connections between chapters. They are more of a one - shot situation, depicting scenes from that universe. This piece here was requested by [Zopadthekat](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com/)

The witch was stupid. Her punishments were stupid. So what if he shredded one of her manuscripts?! She should let him out more, it was _all_ her fault. And because _she_ was so prissy and quick to anger, Jack was left without dinner and the frikkin’ stew smelled so damn nice!

Jack angrily trotted along the fence, looking around for a quick catch. He hated eating uncooked ‘game’ but he felt hungry enough to make an exception today. Not rats thought. _Never_ rats. Only his idiot brother ate those.

The smell had tickled his nostrils and Jack stopped, ears up and whiskers trembling in excitement. It smelled like food and _human_ food at that. The heavenly aroma was coming from the furthest corner of the stead and he dashed towards it impatiently, stomach gurgling in excitement.

It looked like a cutlet, charred but long cold. Regardless, it smelled absolutely fantastic. There was something else in that delicious mix: a sweet tangy smell Jack could not recognize but at this point he simply did not care, his neglected animal instincts taking over as he settled down besides the meat growling happily as his teeth sank deep into the meat.

Jack was halfway the meal when a sudden jolt of pain ran all along his frame and he jerked upwards, feeling his stomach churn and spasm. This was not right, the mean was bad and not just bad bad. _Deadly_ bad. He yowled in desperation, trying to retch but the body refused to listen and Jack helplessly dropped on the ground, every muscle twitching uncontrollably. He was going to die here: alone and scared and he had nobody to blame but himself.

* * *

The rat was huge. Like, enormous! Enough for the both of them and then some. Jack never ate rats but he would now, all because Nisha refused to feed him today. Jack had been agitating her for days on end and it was just a matter of time before she lost her patience. The witch did not have too much of it to begin with.

 

A thin mewl attracted his attention and Tim stopped, ears twitching and searching for the source. A wave of alien sickness washed over him and he unclenched his jaw, releasing the prey and darted towards the shade of the oak where he felt Jack’s presence the moment before.

Timothy ran as fast as the paws would carry him and finally he found himself a clearing underneath the old gnarly oak. His brother lay next to a foul - smelling piece of meat, his whole body convulsing and foaming at the mouth. 

With a hiss Tim was at Jack’s side, nuzzling him to move and when that failed, he sank his teeth into Jack’s scruff desperately trying to drag him towards the house.

_Too long_.

It would take too long.

Timothy let Jack go and dug his paws into the ground, arching his back and growling as he felt the familiar strain run over the muscles as they stretched and shifted to accommodate his human body. His _real_ body, though he long since stopped regarding it as such. 

Jack felt so tiny and fragile in his arms as Timothy, staggering and falling, made his way to the house.

“N- Nisha! M- M- Mistress!” He called out, voice hoarse and sluggish from long disuse. “Jack’s sick!!”

“Where did you find him? What happened?” The Purple Witch appeared as if out of nowhere and took Jack out of his hands, laying his small convulsing body on the table and running hands along his sides, ruffling the long thick fur.

“By the tree. I don’t - I -“

“Timothy!” She barked at him and Tim made himself smaller, fingers restlessly raking against bare hips. He could not stand when people raised their voice, it spooked and unsettled him. “Use your brain! I need you coherent.”

“I found him by the old oak,” Tim replied slowly, fidgeting. Thinking like a person took great effort: he had been living as a cat for months now. “He was eating something.”

“Find it and bring it here.” She ordered curtly and, gently cradling Jack, disappeared into the master bedroom. Timothy threw the door open and darted back into the yard.

* * *

The discomfort of a forced shift was nothing compared to the agony his body was in. Every inch of him was on fire and Jack moaned through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the sheets. He could not think, he could not breathe and the world kept continuously spinning around him, alit with psychedelic colors and shapes. Every new transition echoed as yet another sharp pain in his insides, making Jack cry out in anguish.

“Drink this,” The witch’s voice came from somewhere afar, distorted and ugly. Jack would be damned if he did anything she told him to and so he clenched his teeth ever harder, ignoring the pain shooting through his jaw. She must have noticed his disobedience as the next moment he heard the witch calling out his brother’s name. “Timothy, open his mouth!”

Jack felt two fingers press against his lips, sharp nails scratching the skin. “Please, just do as she says!”

Like hell he would! Timothy’s hand gripped his lower jaw as two fingers quickly slipped behind his canines, forcing Jack’s mouth to pop open. The next moment a bitter disgusting mixture was poured down his throat, slithering down the oesophagus and into his stomach. Jack bolted upwards, eyes wild with the intention of hurling it all out.

“It’s ok,” His younger brother kept muttering, as he held own hand against Jack’s mouth in an attempt to prevent him from spewing. “Calm down, it’s a medicine, it’s -“

“Fuck off me, you dumb bastard!” Jack growled and tried pushing Tim away. But his body, just a moment ago so tense and stiff became akin to cotton and he listlessly fell back onto the pillows. “What even -,“

“You ate poisoned meat from the ground, Jack,” Nisha said dryly as her fingers were on his neck, checking the pulse. “I thought you smarter, kitten.”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he hissed but it was a weak attempt at best.

“You’re right. Kittens are smarter than you,” Nisha scoffed and her fingers rested on his temple. “Now sleep.”

He opened his mouth to tell her off but, as a feeling of heavy but soothing warmth washed over Jack, his head began listing to the side, eyelids heavy with a spell - induced sleep. He would yell at her later, right now he needed this. This feeling of comfort and safety.

* * *

The purring reverberated in his chest and Jack slowly opened his eyes, blinking mindlessly into the darkness. It took a moment to adjust and soon he saw two familiar glowing dots somewhere on his stomach.

“Get off me,” He grumbled and prodded his brother away. Timothy pawed at the persistent hand and finally slid down at the crisp soft sheets, curling up on the pillow; his and Jack’s usual place. Jack sighed: despite his muscles still aching from whatever crap has caused the seizures it was good to be human again. To be able to talk, think and not resort to washing your own - ,“Timmy, you dirty fuck, put that paw down!”

The cat made a weird noise that could only be interpreted as a scoff but eventually obliged, blinking at Jack slowly in an unspoken question. 

“Have been better. But, uh, thanks,” He reached out and scratched behind the familiar’s ears, eliciting a wave of happy purrs. “I know it is stupidly difficult for you to human, Timtams.”

With a groan Jack rested his head on the pillows and for a while watched his brother stare at own twitching tail in a dumb fascination.

“Did you have to go back to the fucking cat though? I can’t even talk to you,” Jack was musing, turning away and staring at the ceiling. “ Not that I want to, all you ever do is whine.”

Jack chewed on his lip and finally reached out for the pillow, yanking it from under his brother and making Tim hiss in surprise.

“Scram, you’re a shitty company.”

A patter of paws on the wooden floor indicated that his brother did a smart thing and showed himself out. He might have saved his life today but Tim would _never_ be done atoning for them ending up here in the first place. The memory made Jack’s blood boil and he clenched his fists, sharp nails digging into rough skin.

“Jack,” the witch’s voice pulled him out of his angry stupor and there she was, suddenly appearing at the edge of the bed. “Tim said you were awake.”

“Did he now? Such a good boy,” Jack replied venomously and inched away, the woman irked him on so many levels. Unlike the ass - kissing Timothy, his shift solely depended on Nisha’s wishes thus leaving him at her every whim. He would _really_ welcome his cat form just about now: it was fast, flexible and very good at escaping.

“That was a close call,” she said dryly, eyes fixed on his face. “I was worried there for a moment.”

“Really? Aw shucks, m’am,” He parroted with a bright grin that did nothing to hide hostility in his odd-coloured eyes. “I imagine you’d be _so_ heartbroken, witch.” 

Nisha’s hand shot forward and he felt long nails dig into his cheeks as the woman’s amber eyes narrowed to mere slits.

“Enough, _Jack_ ,” She said slowly, articulating every syllable and yet he did not notice the usual aggression in her voice. “Perhaps you don’t understand how this arrangement of ours works.”

“Ya think so?” He scowled to the best of his ability, considering her fingers were smushing his lips together in the most ungraceful manner. “Our ‘arrangement’ revolves around you and Timmy fucking me over.”

“Cute that you still actively believe that,” she laughed and let him go, hand settling in the dip of his hip. The simple gesture shot hot tendrils up from her fingers and into his abdomen. “He saved you, remember?”

“He bound is both to a life of servitude!” Jack spat out, realizing that he could not even muster the right amount of anger anymore: it had been _decades_.

“Come now, kitten. You want to tell me that your life is so much worse now than when you and your brother were scraping by on the streets?”

It was good to have a home and a belly full of food but there was a crucial element missing: he was not free. Jack lived and breathed by the grace of the Purple Witch and while his brother seemed to have accepted their fate, the fate _he_ had signed them up for, Jack refused. With years the anger turned to annoyance and irritation and that is when the first changes took place. He had seen them in Tim and he had never expected to see them on himself.

“So what do you want?” He asked bitterly, arms crossed and still very aware about the hand on his hip. “Can’t I die in peace?”

Nisha laughed at the comment and her hand casually moved upwards, tactically ghosting over his groin and finally settling down on the abdomen.

“I want you well, Jack.” The hand left his abdomen and long fingers tangled in his unkempt hair, playfully pinching the sensitive shell of his ear and making Jack flick it quickly in irritation: he hated when she did that and Nisha knew that.

“You won’t believe it, sweetheart, but I am way too sick to fuck right now.”

“Exactly why I want you well, handsome,” Her lips ghosted over his cheek. “ _Sleep._ ”


End file.
